Midnightfall
by viper676
Summary: Something has happened with the latest rendition of the Song, and the stakes are high: Manhattan, and all of its lives. Nita and Kit are forced to put aside their past and work together again. God knows what'll happen.
1. Chapter 1

_Summer Midnight_

_Chapter One_

New York melted in the late July heat wave that rolled off the Atlantic. Humid and miserably hot, every last air conditioning unit on Long Island was on full blast in a futile effort to combat the rolling waves of sticky heat that made New York an annual hell.

All except one.

Swearing diligently, Nita lost all patience with coaxing in the Speech and resorted to brute force.

"Why the-" _thwack._ "-hell won't you-" _thunk thunk wham._ "-effing…. WORK?"

The A/C smugly spit out a cloud of dust and insect remains before blowing a panel off the rear of the unit.

Nita slumped against the kitchen counter, sweat rolling down her forehead as she panted.

"Dammit."

It had been one of those days.

Dealing the snickering air conditioner one last smack with her manual, Nita trudged wearily into her bedroom and flopped down on her bed.

"Goddamn electronics."

At eleven in the morning, the day wasn't bound to get much better anytime soon.

Nita contemplated going to sleep, but that prospect was pushed aside as Dairine bounced into her room, followed by Spot.

She shot Dairine a look from the bed.

"What're _you_ so happy about? Make out with Roshaun on the Moon again?"

Dairine threw a paperback book at her.

"Maybe," she grinned, and dodged nimbly as it came hurtling back at her.

And equally nimbly got caught in the side of the head with a teddy bear.

"Ow!"

Nita buried her face in her pillow.

"Serves you right."

Dairine tossed the bear onto the bed and sat down. "Awww, is somebody sad because they miss their little _Kitty_…?

Something like a cross between a snarl and a groan escaped Nita's lips, and she halfheartedly kicked out at Dairine.

"Gettout," she growled, her head still muffled by the pillow.

Her little sister took the opportunity to purloin a granola bar from the box on Nita's dresser, and almost skipped down the hall to her own room.

It was perhaps lucky that the pillow was there. The last thing Nita wanted Dairine to see was her crying.

-----

A few blocks away, Kit also had tears rolling down his face.

For a different reason entirely, sure. But they were tears all the same.

Choking, Kit dived for the pitcher of water on the table next to his older sister.

Carmela laughed as she watched him down half the pitcher in a few gulps.

"I win."

Kit wiped his watering eyes on the sleeve of his shirt and glared at the bottle of Tabasco sauce he had been drinking.

"What's your point?" he managed to croak.

Miraculous in many ways, not the most prominent being that he had probably just developed several thousand lacerations all throughout his digestive tract.

Carmela shrugged. "Nothing. Just another ten bucks."

Kit swore colorfully, but handed Carmela the ten anyways.

Laughing, she whirled off towards the garage, now a few steps closer to buying the next Kingdom Hearts game.

Still bemoaning his flaming tongue and the loss of ten dollars, Kit stalked off, albeit a bit unsteadily, to his workroom, fell into his desk chair and flipped his manual open.

He unzipped his otherspace pocket and withdrew an incredibly long and incredibly complex matrix from within it.

It had been so long since he'd worked on it, he'd forgotten exactly what it was used for.

Reading along the shimmering lines, he poked at a few clauses and variables here and there, altering them for the current year and location he was in, and then split the matrix in half.

For the next three hours, he wove more and more into the matrix, until he had three feet of shining gossamer material floating gently in front of him.

Within the fine strands of energy and spell words, he had enclosed a jump-type procedure; which would allow him to jump instantaneously from one universe, through every possible point in space at one time, and back into his own universe, carrying whoever he was with at the time with him. The variables had been incredibly difficult to work out, but once he had worked it over with Tom and Carl, he had a very powerful device on his hands, as it left a virtually impossible trail to trace.

Smiling with tired satisfaction, he jammed it back into his otherspace pocket and zipped it shut.

Grabbing his manual, he went to go see about diluting the Tabasco sauce.

-----

A/N: My god it's been a while since I've written anything on this site. Been really busy.

Anyways. As of current, all other stories other than this are on hiatus, due to the massive amount of work my wonderful school has given me to cope with over the summer, and also due to other commitments I have in my life.

If anybody is interested in a great Kingdom Hearts fanfiction, check out _Snapshots_, by xsynthetic-smile. It's just something to keep you occupied while I struggle to make ends meet with the writing world.

How to get to Snapshots: go to the home page, and after the last slash in the address bar, paste s/2961420/1/

Forgive meif I don't update soon. They will occur sporadically, whenever I have time to write.

Thank you to everyone who has read this, and I hope to update again shortly.

Thank you also for your patience.

-viper676


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

**A/N: Whoa, amazing, huh? Me updating and all. To clear up a few things…**

**1. Kit drinking the hot sauce bottle was a bet with Carmela. Ten bucks that he could finish more of a Tabasco bottle than she could.**

**2. Nita and Kit have recently broken up, hence the tears from Nita. **

**Any other questions? Review and I'll answer them.**

**Thank you for reading! And please… just… review. It only takes 10 seconds…**

_Are we growing up?_

_Or just going down_

_It's just a matter of time until we're all found out_

_Take our tears, put 'em on ice_

_Cause I swear, I'd burn the city down to show you the light._

_-Fall Out Boy- Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year_

Why did dogs have wet, freezing cold noses?

Kit pondered that question as, bleary-eyed, he rolled over and glared resentfully at Ponch, who was now lying across the room from him, looking perfectly innocent and happy.

…_It's summer. I don't like getting up at any time later than about noon during the summer._

Ponch sneezed.

_My bad._

A half-snort from Kit.

_Yeah, you bad._ He sighed. _Let me guess._ _You woke me up because you wanna go for a walk?_

_Kinda, yeah._

Kit groaned, starting to painfully lever himself out of bed.

_Right... let's see if I can get to my closet without falling over anything._

---

Stumbling along the sidewalk, Kit yawned hugely, half watching Ponch prance around at the end of his leash.

"Why the hell am I so tired?" he wondered aloud, stifling another yawn and rubbing at his blurring eyes.

Ponch glanced back at him. _Are you all right?_

_Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired._

A short silence from Ponch.

_You seem more than just a little tired. Exhausted, too. And weak._

Indignant, Kit shot back.

_I'm not weak! But I _am_ tired. Dunno why._

A sense of regret rose from Ponch's consciousness.

_Did I wake you up too early? _he inquired unhappily.

Kit half smiled. _Nah, nothing to do with you. I'll be all right._

His dog let out a short whuff of air, content, and marched on, keeping an eye out for any stray squirrels that might dart out from a backyard somewhere.

Fortunately for Kit, they didn't see a single squirrel all throughout their walk down and halfway back up the street.

Unfortunately, they saw one four houses down from Kit's.

Ponch being Ponch, he joyfully began barking his head off and tore off after the squirrel, Kit being towed behind again, running frantically to avoid being pulled flat on his face.

The squirrel ripped madly up the nearest tree, between Kit's house and the neighbor's, and Ponch sat at the base of the tree, panting happily, and letting out the occasional growl at the offending rodent.

On the other hand, something else entirely had caught Kit's attention. With his usual appalling aim, the local paperboy had managed to wedge the day's edition of the _New York Times_ in a nearby bush. It was the first word of the headline splashed in massive black letters front page that interested him. Kit pulled his neighbor's paper from the bush and blinked.

_Earthquake in Manhattan_

Curious, Kit glanced guiltily up at his neighbor's house, and gently pulled the string off the rolled paper. Unfolding it, he read the rest of the story.

_Downtown Manhattan shuddered late Thursday evening in what was the biggest earthquake New York City has experienced since 1884. The 3.2 magnitude earthquake was centered just off Atlantic Beach, on what experts say is formerly unknown fault line. Little to no damage was reported in the high-rise commercial buildings that dominate the skyline in the Downtown Area, besides the immense surprise of many residents at the occurrence of an earthquake. Linda Palmor, 36, was reported to have…._

Kit could have cared less about Linda Palmor, more worried about the freak occurrence of the latest earthquake. He knew very well what had happened with the 1884 earthquake, and had almost experienced another one about four years previous, when the Song had very nearly gone awry.

There were a variety of words that could have been used to sum up the situation, and Kit managed to somehow incorporate all of them into a single interjection.

"…_Shit_."

---

Dragging a wholly unwilling Ponch through the front door of his house, Kit shut the door behind him and made for the phone.

Seven numbers and four rings later, the phone picked up on the other end.

"Tom Swale speaking."

Kit breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey Tom, it's Kit. Listen, did you see the front page of today's paper?"

"Er... hold on a second…"

A brief silence followed, followed by the thwack of paper hitting a counter, and another brief silence.

"Oh. Oh. Um. This could be dire."

Kit, keeping an eye on Ponch, laughed grimly. "Yeah, that's what I thought when I saw it. Is there any other info on this?"

On Tom's end, he heard him flipping pages of his massively thick manual.

"Yeah, I do. And you're not going to like this… oh, hey, Carl. Look at this…"

A long stream of swearwords issued from somewhere in the background, indicating the severity of the situation. Anything over eight was bad, and Carl's chain seemed to cover every one in the history of the English language.

Tom came back on the line. "Okay… this is bad. The Song went badly… we lost four marine-zone wizards just from that. All kinds of crap is boiling up down there, and it's going to be a hell of a time trying to get this back together."

A strange sense of foreboding swept over Kit at the mention of the marine wizards.

"Er… Tom? Does the manual have a listing of the names?"

Another pause.

"Yes, yes it does. Check yours, the Recent Events section. God, even _I_ can't pronounce some of these."

Kit picked up his manual from its place on the counter and flipped it open.

The foreboding feeling had been well-formed. Listed among the Celebrants who had died as a result of the Song going awry was S'reee.

"Oh, dammit… we lost S'reee..."

Tom's voice now took on an edge of panic.

"My God, have you seen your power ratings? They've dropped a hell of a lot… are you all right?"

Kit sighed. "I'm fine, just… tired."

More swearing, this time from Tom.

"Don't transport. You're going to need as much energy as you possibly can. This isn't going to be an easy thing to fix. Crap, we need to get people down there now. Bring Nita, and get downtown as fast as you can."

Kit froze at the sound of the name. "Oh… er… Nita?"

Tom sighed again. "Yeah… I know what happened, but… just try to put that aside for now. This is a big matter. A really big matter."

A sigh escaped Kit's lips. "All right. I'll see you down there in a bit."

"Will do."

Kit tossed the phone back onto the cradle.

Trying to put what had happened aside. So, so much easier said than done.

He wearily picked up the phone again and dialed the number he knew by heart.

His ex's number.

---

Nita's phone went off with a prolonged buzz as it vibrated against the wood of her desk.

Nita, on the other hand, had no intentions of answering it until it buzzed right off the desk and clattered to the floor.

She rolled out of bed, pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and dived for the phone.

"Hey, this is Nita."

"…hey Nita… it's Kit."

Her heart skipped a beat in surprise.

"…Hi Kit. Um… what's up?"

"Listen, have you seen today's front page?"

"Er… no… why d'you ask?"

"S'reee's dead," Kit intoned dully.

"Are you freaking kidding?"

"No, Nita, I'm not. What's more, there was an earthquake Downtown the other night, and you know what causes earthquakes. The Song went badly… it killed four of the Celebrants. Tom wants us down by the docks by Ground Zero ASAP."

Nita sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Oh God. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right."

An awkward pause.

Nita cleared her throat. "Er… Kit?"

"Huh?"

"…I'm sorry."

He sighed. "I know."

Another long, awkward silence as they struggled to find words to say to each other.

Nita broke it. "Well… I'd better get down there then."

"Right. …er. See you there."

The phone went dead in her hand, leaving Nita sitting on the edge of her bed, half in shock.

She had personally known S'reee, having worked with her on the last Song, and nearly dying because of not reading the fine print.

_Numb yourself and MOVE_.

Nita, pushing the thought of S'reee's death to the back of her mind, pulled out her transport spell. Altering the coordinates, she set them for Ground Zero, and hurried downstairs. Leaving a note for her dad on the refrigerator, she tossed the circle to the ground and stepped into it.

In the split second before it took hold, she felt the absence of Kit's body next to her, as it had been so many times before, and sighed as her mood changed.

With a _pop_, she was gone.

---

Kit's process of getting there was much, much slower.

Slapping a Post-it onto the fridge door, he grabbed his car keys and headed out the door.

Climbing into his ten-year-old Honda hatchback, he started the engine and shot down the street, heading towards the freeway that would take him to Downtown Manhattan.

God, it was going to be a long day.

---


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

**A/N: My God, three updates in four days. It's a new record.**

**In response to your questions:**

**Landunderwave- Err. After Wizard's Holiday, but not so sure about Wizards at War. Because I haven't read it yet. Heh. And about your story… off to check it out.**

**CharmedNightSkye- I'm leaving that open, for the reader to fill in with whatever. Not a crucial detail in this, but my original storyline was that Kit had done something stupid, ticking Nita off, and causing the breakup.**

**And to yayalulu- I'll email you as soon as I can, my regular email is not being cooperative. **

_Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal_

_Red light, can't stop, so I spin the wheel_

_My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up_

_And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white_

_They flip the siren, hit the lights_

_Close the doors, and I am gone…_

_Thrice- Artist in the Ambulance_

Kit sat down hard as he watched the huge reinforcement matrix spread out across the water and sink below the waves.

Every local wizard in the New York area, and some from much further out than New York, was now gathered at the base of the Statue of Liberty, looking for all the world like some bizarre tourist group staring with an avid fascination at the dull green water.

Dairine too was looking rather unsteady on her feet, and Nita wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling.

The matrix had taken close to six hours to fabricate, even with the combined power of close to forty wizards of all powers and experience to aid it along.

Sunset had fallen, and the mosquitoes were seriously beginning to annoy Kit.

Much as he hated to kill other living things, he flattened another mosquito against his wrist, peeling it off and tossing its carcass aside.

_God DAMN, go the hell AWAY! _he snarled at the hovering bugs.

The mosquitoes merely droned on, paying him no heed and not bothering to respond, opting instead to continually dive-bomb every inch of unprotected skin on Kit's body.

Weary, Kit let his arms drop, pulling his windbreaker miserably over him as the mosquitoes buzzed about.

It had, indeed, been a hellishly long day.

The hot sun had been enough, but the breeze that had been funneled through Kit's car window had viciously vanished the moment he had pulled up at the docks, and stepping out of the Honda had felt like running into a wall.

The island offered little protection against the sun, besides the statue's own massive, but that had already been forcefully taken by hoards of Japanese tourists and a Californian choir group.

The Californians, Kit thought ruefully, should have been used to this kind of weather.

Tom glanced up from his manual. "Right… there's a lot of work to be done still, but we've done all we can for today. The whales can handle it for tonight. And now… go get some rest. I'll send out a message to you if you're needed again."

The dismissal was all Kit needed to drop a transport circle back to the mainland.

---

Pulling his car back onto the freeway, Kit immersed himself in thought.

_Last time the Song had a catastrophic failure was Atlantis. How come New York isn't a pile of rubble beneath the ocean right now…?_

…_it's almost as if something big is going to happen…something's been waiting…_

…_something like- _

Tires screamed as a pair of taillights suddenly flashed red ten feet in front of Kit's bumper.

Reacting instinctively, Kit wrenched the wheel to the left.

The Honda swerved hard, slapping the freeway median with its front bumper and left front wheel and flipping it onto its side with a squeal of rubber and a flash of taillights.

Kit saw a shower of sparks dancing in through the shattered passenger-side window before something smashed into the roof of the spinning hatchback. The impact entirely annihilated the passenger side of the Honda in an explosion of parts and metal, spraying Kit with a shower of debris. He was suddenly encased in a cocoon of twisted metal and mangled upholstery as the car slammed back down on its roof with a crunch and shriek of twisted metal.

The destroyed car spun to a grinding halt up against the freeway median.

Gradually, Kit became aware of a searing pain in his right arm, and gingerly twisted his head to look.

Everything from his elbow down was a bloody mess; a bone protruded from the crook of his arm, and his hand, though still attached to his arm, looked dubious in its prospective future use.

He found it easier to let unconsciousness take the pain.

**A/N: Per usual, if you have questions, comments, or gripes, just review. Thank you very much!**


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